The Confessional
by SnowRedWings
Summary: ChrisXJill. Flufffic/OneShot. No real storyline, just some fluffyfluff for you Valenfield lovers. R&R! Let me know what you want to read!


"Jill! Jill, wait!" Chris called over the roar of the crowd, watching her long brown hair sway against her back as she walked farther and farther away. No matter how many people he pushed passed, more and more cropped up out of nowhere only to impede his travel towards her. Only once did she seem to hear him and turned around to look at him, her eyes slightly confused as she saw no one she recognized. Her eyes slipped right over him. As if he wasn't even there. No matter how hard he tried, how loud he yelled, he was invisible to her.

Lurching awake, he opened his eyes and stared at the dark ceiling. His heart was racing in his chest and his breathing was hitched. The woman next to him sat up, her fingertips touching his cheek lightly. His heart rate slowed almost immediately, the love of his life having that much of an effect on him. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes again, letting his senses guide him in the pitch black.

"Are you okay?" Her voice was like a light chime that soothed his raw nerves, "Did you have that dream again?" She spoke more softly, a mixture of sadness and understanding leaking into her tone. He had told her about it before, the same nightmare that haunted him ever since the night at the mansion. He nodded against her hand, moving to pull her close. She accepted the invitation and lay across his chest, her head tucked perfectly beneath his chin. Everyone joked they were made for each other, and they were right. Their hands, mouths, and hearts fit perfectly together. Even their brains completed each other, filling in knowledge and wisedom the other didn't know.

"Even though you're here now... I can't erase those years from my mind.. I just can't." He murmured, his fingers running through her soft hair. It smelled of Jasmine and was like velvet between his callosed grip. In the dark of their room, he felt safe admitting to his weaknesses. Like a sinner at confessional, everything he held back from everyday life, he let go. The darkness consumed his secrets whole and the problems that had plagued his mind for so long were gone. All except the one that kept haunting him, no matter how much he talked about it. "I'm so scared of losing you again." His voice broke and his arms squeezed her tighter, a small noise of slight discomfort coming from the thin woman laying against him. Every night, it was the same thing. He would wake and she would remind him that she wasn't going anywhere.

"I promised I wouldn't leave you again, Chris" She whispered, listening to the sound of his heart pick up its pace again. Even if she couldn't see his face, just by that noise she knew she had struck a cord.

"You didn't want to leave last time either, Jill, that was fate.' He tensed under her, his nostrils flaring as his eyes tingled slightly. She sat up and stroked his chin comfortingly, her lower lip quivering emotion. She wished she could help him more, but listening and being there was all she do. No words would remove the pain he felt, had been feeling for so long. Her fingertips ran over his lips, tracing the crease between them. He was perfectly still, motionless save for his breathing, relishing in the comfort she offered.

"I made a promise." This time, her voice was stern and her hand moved to rest against his cheek, Chris aware of her sudden promixity even in the dark. "Nothing will break it." she kissed the corner of his mouth lightly, her touch delicate as if she was worried he would break under even the most gentle of pressure. He turned his head and kissed her lightly, lovingly. Affection and these small gestures conveyed more than speech ever could. His fingers tangled in her hair and he tilted his head slightly, deepening the chaste kiss. Her other hand moved to rest on the other side of his face, their breath mingling together when she pulled away. The noise he made was akin to a growl, his hand easing her back down to him. He took advantage of her lips parted in surprise, his tongue invading to taste her. She gave a light groan of pleasure, spurring him on a bit until he remembered that it wasn't about that this time. Pulling away breathlessly, she again traced his damp mouth with her index finger.

"I love you," They spoke at the same time, causing an eruption of muffled laughter as Jill hid her face against his neck. His hands rubbed her tanktop covered back, the smile on his face widening. That nightmare seemed so foolish now, like a distant mistake in the past that would always loom behind him like a shadow. He couldn't take back what had happened, but he could change the future. This woman, a creature any man would be lucky to have, was his. Always his. Nothing would change that. Not Wesker, not fate and certainly not any other human on the face of the planet.

"Jill?" She hummed to let him know she was listening, "Let's get married," Her finger paused in its journey over his jawline, her breathing paused. His heart sputtered nervously, a cold sweat developing on his palms. When she pulled away, his heart nearly stopped. His arms felt desperately empty without her in them and he could feel the confusion on his face. Even more so when the bathroom light suddenly flooded the darkroom.

"Chris Redfield," She stood, nothing more than a siloutte as she placed her hands on her hips, "Did you just propose to me in bed?" Her voice was joyful and only teasingly upset, her foot tapping at him. Chris laughed, and shielded his eyes from the light feeling almost singled out in the bright rectangle of illumination.

"Why yes, I did," He countered, propping himself up on his elbows. "Now, come back to bed and give me your answer." This room, their room, their life together - was Chris' chapel. Jill was his savior, the light in his life he turned to when he needed guidance, comfort, peace. Wherever he went, she was with him - if not in body, then he carried her in his heart. He wanted her to belong to him and just him, forever. Not just until death, but until the end of time. The end of all.

"Let's get married," She repeated after shutting off the light and diving back into bed. He recaptured her in his arms and held her close, pulling her against the safety of his chest. She sighed, knowing that this was where she belonged. His hand cradled the back of her head, his fingers pulling softly through her hair as always. She was fidgeting against him, obviously excited by the news that they were going to belong to each other in a way that made it more public than just holding hands. They would exchange rings, and bragging rights. 'See that man there? He's my husband. That's right, Chris Redfield,' she could imagine herself saying. She knew he was picturing just the same, a light rumble of muffled laughed vibrating in his chest. He was smiling in the dark, his eyes closed to it. Maybe now, the nightmares would be put to rest. 


End file.
